"Three cheers for Lige Thomas and Professor Zepplin," cried Ned Rector, in which the boys joined with a will, their shouts echoing back to them from the rocky peaks on the other side of the gulch.
"Rifles and ponies! We surely ought to be happy!" laughed Tad, with flashing eyes. "Any boy with those two things wouldn't change places with a king, would he, fellows?"
"No!" answered the Pony Riders at the top of their voices. "Not even for a whole monarchy!"
Lige was beset by a perfect clamor of questions as to when they were to have a chance to try the guns on real game.
"One at a time—one at a time," begged the guide. "First I must find out how well you boys can shoot. Has any of you ever handled a gun before?"
"I have," spoke up Tad promptly.
"And I," added Ned Rector.
"I've done a little shooting with my thirty-two calibre," said
Walter. "But I don't call myself much of a shot."
"And how about you, Master Stacy?" smiled the guide.
"I? Why, I can shoot a bull's eye with a how and arrow. But somehow, when I try to fire a real gun, I can't help shutting my eyes before the thing goes off."